


Arrow AUs

by greenevans



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: 1001 Arrow AUs, Alternate Universe - College/University, Arrow AU, College AU, F/M, Laundry, olicity - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-09
Updated: 2015-05-09
Packaged: 2018-03-29 16:27:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3903049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greenevans/pseuds/greenevans
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Making my way through 1001 Arrow AUs, as encouraged by Molly. And Arrow season 3.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Arrow AUs

**_I have no idea how to work this washing machine, can you help me? AU_ **

* * *

 

“Shit! Shit! Shit!”

Felicity bit the inside of her cheeks to keep from laughing too much at the boy. He had been having so much trouble ever since he walked into the dorm laundry room. Glancing up from her book, she looked at him from the corner of her eye. He was shaking his hand vigorously with a grimace on his face.

Sighing, Felicity took pity on the poor boy. Setting the book aside, she walked over to him. “Hi,” she said, not wanting to accuse him of being helpless. College boys, she found, tended to be touchy about those types of things. Especially the frat boy types, which was how she pegged this one. It was always easy to tell the ones whose mom’s had always done their laundry.

He looked up, relief flooding his face. His very attractive face. “Hi! Do you know how to work these washers?” he asked eagerly. “These are… old and I don’t know what to push.”

Felicity suppressed another smile.

“This one is a little tricky,” she said, reaching for the dial. “You have to push the dial in before you turn or it sticks.”

The washing machine gave loud clicks as it turned and the water went from steaming to cold. “Now your colors won’t run,” she smiled. “Though you might want to separate out your whites in the future, to avoid bleeding.”

He gave a sigh of relief. “Thanks. Raisa always did the laundry,” he told her. “She gave me a crash course before I left for orientation but our machines are those fancy, high-tech energy saving ones.”

“Yes, much different than our Laundromat rejects,” Felicity agreed. She’d grown up using apartment complex laundry rooms in Vegas and knew every trick to any machine to make them run. She had actually repaired one for the apartment manager when the repair man couldn’t make it out for a week. Her mother had been ecstatic that rent was cut in half for the next month.

“So do any of these other machines have little tricks I should know about?” he asked with a small smile. It was a lovely smile.

She blushed at the thought of wanting to make him smile more.

She returned the smile. “This washer,” she patted the one he was using, “gets the hottest water. This one,” she kicked the one to the left, “needs a kick mid-spin cycle to keep going. The last stops if you put it on ‘light cycle’. And if you actually want your clothes to dry without pumping in more quarters than you’re worth, you have to use the one pressed awkwardly against the wall.”

He stared at her blankly. “That’s kind of a lot,” he said after a moment.

“Maybe you should take notes,” Felicity teased. She couldn’t help it; she wanted to make him smile.

“Or I could take you out for a drink instead?” he suggested. He gave her a grin she was positive had dropped a fair share of co-ed panties. And she was sure he knew it had that effect.

“I fail to see how buying me a drink helps you remember all the laundry room secrets,” she countered. Felicity was pleased to see the surprised on his face when she didn’t readily accept his proposal. “Besides, I don’t go for drinks with frat boys,” she added with a smile of her own. One she knew had a similar effect on men.

He quirked a small smile at her. A genuine, sincere little smile. It suited him better.

“Coffee then?” he offered, seeming to reassess her. “And I’ll bring a notebook.”

He was cute, and looked to have some delicious muscles underneath that shirt.

“I’m Felicity,” she said holding out her hand, a slow smile spreading across her face. On her terms, this could be fun.

The frat boy gave her that lovely, open smile again. “I’m Oliver,” he said taking her hand.


End file.
